


Reflections: Smoke

by MsSuzuYuki



Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: A little depression, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Gen, If you treat each section per chapter a drabble then yeah it's a drabble..., No Bashing, Spoilers, Takeru!Centric, Takeru's Musing, a bit too long for a drabble, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSuzuYuki/pseuds/MsSuzuYuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiba Takeru was compared to fire, but what he really was, was smoke.<br/>Because where there's smoke... there's fire, but it's not the actual thing.<br/>These are his musings. <br/>[Drabble-esque; a little too long for that.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> **This was originally written in late 2013; Chapter 3 and onwards has been written in 2015.**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Shiba Takeru had some time to himself to think. Problem is, when he starts thinking, it usually lead to him get a little depressed.   
> It's one of those rare moments that Takeru has to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Yukiko does not own Shinkengers; if she did, a lot more drama would come from Kaoru's appearance.  
>  \--  
>  **Comments:** Please enjoy! Takes place some time between Act 43 and 44. Spoilers galore – don't read unless you've watched it all! Glossary for your benefit is at the bottom.  
>  Also, this was originally written in late 2013, my writing style has changed a little since then. Ch 1-2 is already written, and Ch 3 will be done eventually.

The night was silent, brusque and cold. It was the middle of winter and oshougatsu would be approaching soon, too. The mansion was quiet – everyone had left for something or another to prepare for the New Year – and the only true sound came from nature, the sound of the _shishi-odori_ and the miscellaneous _kuroko_ about.

This had left one Shiba Takeru a chance to think, truly think, and ponder on recent times. He sat cross-legged on his porch, overlooking the garden, his tea to one side and his eyes staring deeply in front of him. With the help of his vassals – friends, comrades, what have you – he had recently defeated Sujigarano Akumaro, and it wasn't the first time they had gotten hurt. At one point, though he dared not to show it, he had been afraid for the lives of his comrades. He never once doubted their capabilities – anymore, at least – but it was still a frightening possibility for him. He took a sip from his cup.

' _But more than that_ ,' he thought. ' _More than that… I am not…_ ' He let out a mental sigh. Perhaps all this thinking, this façade of confidence, was not good for him.

But what else was there for him to be, than what he was _raised_ to be? What would there be of him after this farce, after all this fighting? He had pushed the consequences out of his mind, had thought she would arrive soon to clear everything up – but it had been too long. He had did all he could to not care, to distance himself and remain afar – but humans had that bad habit of trying to discover what one hid, the habit to cling to mystery and worm their way into the heart. It was just his luck that he'd begin feeling camaraderie among them too.

At the sound of conversation, he lightly slammed his cup on its saucer, careful not to break it, and leapt up onto his feet. Moving to their main room, he sat himself on his – though not quite his – pedestal. One by one, his vassals trickled into the room, all in good spirits, cheerful and as a true team. A light smile graced his lips.

"Eh! Guys, that's so not fair!" Ryuunosuke complained.

"Of course it is!" Was the reply from all the others, sans Kotoha, who only had a slight sheepish quality to her face. "We _jan-ken_ 'd it!

"Ah, please everyone…!" Kotoha tried – hint, tried – to get everyone to settle. It didn't quite work. Genta and Chiaki were laughing raucously, Mako had one of her stoic smirks, Kotoha was the go-between, and Ryuunosuke simply was pouting in his comic way. 

Takeru coughed lightly into his fist. The effect was almost immediate, with none too little comic effect. The five knelt down, let out a quick, "Tono-sama!" and quickly went on their way. Takeru shook his head as they left.

These were _his_ vassals, _his_ samurai. 

But what was this sinking feeling deep in his chest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **-Chapter One Glossary-**
> 
>  
> 
> お正月- oshougatsu – New Years
> 
> 鹿踊 – shishi-odori – Devices used to scare wildlife from agriculture or gardens, such as scarecrows or the waterfall-bamboo device.
> 
> 黒子 – kuroko – the background ninjas that help around the mansion; named after the "ninjas" that help behind the scenes.
> 
> じゃんけん – janken – Rock, Paper, Scissors.


	2. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeru's injured, and the cat's out of the bag: he's no longer a Lord (though he never was).  
> Where there's smoke, there's fire: and he was the smoke.  
> But...who is he now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Yukiko does not own Shinkengers; if she did, there'd be more Shinkengers special episodes. ; w ;  
>  \--  
>  **Comments:** Takes place during and after Act 44, and into 45. Kind of AU, this is if Kaoru didn’t come until the day after - leaving time for Takeru to heal-ish into the night and some interaction time.  
>  This was supposed to be just a two part drabble… but now it'll be three! Probably -- I'll do my best.

The flames were agonising, one of the most excruciating pains Takeru had ever experienced. They felt as though they were burning him from the inside, eating away bit by bit out of his organs. He let out a pained grunt, not scream as most others, but his mind was delirious from the pain.

He fell.

And, his vassals, he told them to keep fighting.

Because he wasn’t worth protecting.

* * *

Letting his eyes peek open for only a fraction at the sound of footsteps, his vision was blurry, but what he saw was unmistakable.

It was her, the Princess of the Shiba Clan, Shiba Kaoru, the _true_ eighteenth head of the Shiba Clan. 

He steeled himself for the coming storm.

There was no turning back.

* * *

Takeru woke up once more at the sound of footsteps, this time, the sound of the soft pelts of the _kuroko_ 's footsteps. They were not his, no, they were the true head's helpers.

He watched on impassively as they took the _hiden_ disks away – the discs that Genta worked hard to complete, the _tora_ disc, the super disc, all of them. He closed his eyes in resignation.

"Takeru." Jii's gruff voice snapped Takeru out of his thoughts, as well as halting his attempt to sit up. His face was grim, set with some disfigured resignation. Takeru could feel Jii's hand on his shoulder, a light but firm grip, pushing him back down to not aggravate the yet-to-heal wounds. Takeru reluctantly, almost dejectedly, settled back down.

But what had really set things apart for Takeru was the fact that Jii had not called him 'Tono.' Because, he knew, the day Jii would stop calling him that – well, it was a long time coming, wasn't it? – was the day the real Shiba family head would take over, and that it truly had happened. It would have been inevitable – funny how it was only a little while ago he had thought of what would happen – and now that he was at this road, what was he to do? How would he face them, those young samurai he had unfairly taken advantage of? Taken their trust, their hearts, and loyalty, and yet so cruelly put them in danger (for nothing)? When they could have died in vain, dying with the image of him, the _Kagemusha_ , as the Lord just the thought sent shudders down his spine.

"Ahh," He sighed, realising he had taken a moment too long in his thinking. "How long?" The silent 'how did they react?' was only tangible to Jii. 

"Yesterday, and in a fit," Jii admitted. "Ton—"

"Don't call me that." Takeru interrupted. "Don't…" He trailed off, his arm covering his eyes.

"To—Takeru."

"What am I going to tell them?" 

It was a moment of weakness for Takeru. Jii remained silent.

And, for that moment, Shiba Takeru made a decision. For once, this one was for himself.

(He ignored the voice in the head that whispered, ‘ _Coward_ ’.

And he forcefully tried to forget the echoing of, ‘ _Don’t run away. You are ShikenRed_.’)

He’d leave after he cleared everything with them: it was the least he could do.

Perhaps, it was time to let Fuwa Juuzou have that match he always wanted.

He would leave. And those samurai – they no longer were his.

Because…

_It had all been a lie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **-Chapter Two Glossary-**
> 
>  
> 
> 黒子 – kuroko – the background ninjas that help around the mansion; named after the "ninjas" that help behind the scenes.
> 
> 影武者 - kagemusha - “shadow warrior”; a political decoy.


	3. The Hurricane (The First Half)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight against Fuwa Juuzou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Yukiko does not own Shinkengers; if she did, there'd be more Shinkengers special episodes. ; w ;  
>  \--  
>  **Comments:** Takes place during the last half of Act 46, into Act 47.  
>  Also ended up just putting Act 47 into writing: whoops?  
> Um, yeah, longer than I thought it’d be. And… now it’s looking to be five chapters. Well, fudge. More writing, I guess!

**Clash. Bang. Clash.**   
_"Tono! I have always been…"_

The scraping of metal resounded endlessly within Takeru's mind, with each strike following a haphazard rhythm of adrenaline, death and release. He wondered how long his sword had struck against Juuzou's own - hours, he suspected, given that the sun was beginning to set - before quickly discarding his thoughts completely. Sweat had accumulated over his body, the heat of the battle had settled into his pores, driving him past his body's limits.

Now, there was no need for thoughts; he was already numb from his prior agony.

**Right. Jump. Parry.**   
_"... Proud of you."_

He was no longer the 18th Shiba Clan Head’s kagemusha: now, he was just Shiba Takeru.

He was free of his responsibilities, he could live how he wanted to now, and he could give into this battle.

He was Takeru.

He had no titles: none to his name, none to inherit, and none to succeed.

 _Shiba_ Takeru, _heh_ , was a _nothing_. A _fraud_. Useless. _Unneeded_.

He was the smoke to the Princess’ Fire.

 A discarded _kagemusha_.

_He was empty._

**Grunt. Pain. Transform.**   
_"No matter how much it was an act..."_

Takeru ignored the words of Jii echoing in his mind. The proof was before him right now: those samurai were not here with him, they weren't here to stop him, and they had no need to be. They had their own duties to fulfil, and he had already filled his own.

"You know it, don't you?" Juuzou howled at him with bloodlust, his strikes hadn't slowed even after hours of this battle. "All you have…is your sword!'

Takeru inclined his head at that. It was true. All he had…was this sword.

"Right here, right now: fight me!"

" _Haaaaaaaargh!"_  He let his battle cry be his answer.

There were no more words, just steel against steel, bloodlust answering bloodlust.

He barely registered when their fight took them away from his father’s grave, in a cave and finally to the forest.

**Block. Strike. Duck.**   
_"There were things that definitely weren’t lies!"_

Takeru let out a feral growl, his anger strengthening his next strike.

Why? Why wouldn’t he stop thinking. He needed to stop thinking. Yes, yes, that's right: only Juuzou could understand him now. Only this war against him could give him purpose. It was all he could do now: fight, destroy and kill.

He wanted--

**Right.**

He wanted it to stop--

**Up.**

He needed this to stop--

**Left. Swing. Final Slash.  
** _"What you had with them weren’t all lies!"_

' _But a lie is still a **lie**!'_  Takeru vehemently argued to himself. ' _Nothing can change that! No matter what! What I did was **inexcusable**!'_

Fire had lit around their new stage, it was night now, and Takeru had finally slashed Juuzou down to the floor, himself having fallen to his knees.

"I did it," He muttered, out of breath. But there was no achievement in this, it was starting to weigh him down again, this wasn’t the release he needed - but the only one he had.

"That is pleasure." Juuzou smiled - it was evident how far he was gone now - one that was more _gedoushu_ than anything else.

"You… how can you still move?!"

"This body of mine just can't seem to die," Juuzou began to shakily sit himself up, his smile having never left his face. "If it's not my hand, then it'll be my feet, or even just my mouth - either way, as long as I have this sword…" His eyes flashed a crimson red as his hand clenched over the hilt of his sword once more.

"This pleasure of mine will continue.

I've long forgotten what means to be human. Heh, even life's just an illusion for me.

But you know it, don't you? You've felt it, you've felt what I have felt, and crossed swords just as I do.

 _This is your truth now_."

Takeru let his hand drift to his sword. He gripped it contemplatively, staring at it in a trance. "My truth… is…"

" **YOU CAN'T!"**

Takeru's head turned towards them even as Kotoha's scream pierced through the flaming clearing.

"Takeru!"/"Don't you even listen to that kind of talk!"/"Ya've got more th'n ya sword, ya'know!"

"You guys… Why--"

**Mako. Kotoha. Chiaki.**

"Don't look away!" Juuzou growled. "It's not yet over." He attempted to lift his sword to continue the fight, but the sword itself was sentient and embedded itself into his foot, pinning him to the ground.

"No. Uramasa, this is what I've been waiting for. Uramasa. _Let. Me. Fight._ "

Takeru watched on as he stood up once more; one part pity, another part horrified. "This… is your actual truth, isn't it?"

"No! _This is just an illusion_. This _pleasure_ , this _pride_ and this _pain_ is all real."

Even as he stood up, Uramasa remained pinned to his foot. His eyes widened as stabbing pain bisected through him. "Your sword… has reached even into… the marrow of my bones…"

**Ryuunosuke.**

Takeru felt himself being lifted by his - friends - but he couldn't look away from Juuzou.

Juuzou screamed, voice hoarse, as his body was engulfed in flames.

Juuzou burned alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **-Chapter Three Glossary-**  
>  影武者 - kagemusha - “shadow warrior”; a political decoy.
> 
> 外道衆 - gedoushu - malevolent spirits who arise as the result of sin-tainted souls that enter into the Sanzu River within the land of the dead (from wikipedia).


	4. The Hurricane (Eye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because after a bit of angst-ing, sometimes you just need a punch in the face and some pep talk. Mostly a punch in the face, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Yukiko does not own Shinkengers; if she did, Kaoru would probably have more screen time, and maybe Takeru would have more time to stew in angst.  
>  **Comments:** Takes place in second half of Act 47.

Morning had set, and in the dusk, Takeru could feel himself inching deeper into himself. His friends - and he could admit that's what they were now, even if he'd try to deny it so harshly before - were waiting for an answer, and that's what he’d give them.

"I'm sorry, it was my bad. Hurry and retu--"

"I don't believe it was a lie at all!" Kotoha shouted heatedly, tears springing in her eyes. "All those times we fought together, and all those times we had fun together - all of us - those were real. That's why… That's why..."

"But it's also true that I deceived you all!” He turned his back to them. "It's not just a simple lie either. Even in those fights, you could have needlessly died - _for me_."

**Kotoha.**

' _Why can't you see that?_ ' He clenched his fist, feeling the weight of it all crush against his frame.

"None of those truths matter when I compare it to that lie. Hurry and return to the Princess' side."

"Oh, for…" Chiaki growled, half exasperated, half angry, grabbing Takeru's shoulder and coming in for a right hook. His eye twitched when Takeru dodged it. "Don't go dodgin' it, ya idiot!"

**Chiaki.**

Chiaki swung again, this time connecting, sending Takeru into a heap on the floor. Kotoha quickly ran to his side, helping him up, and let out a scolding, "Chiaki!"

"If ya worried about the now, don't, cause the lie's outta th' bag. S' don't freakin' say it! Don't say ya're nothin'! If ya were really 'nothin'' we wouldn't hav' come 'ere now would we?!"

' _Chiaki… You…_ ’ Takeru took in his words with surprise, was he really saying what he thought he was?

"Shiba… Takeru." Ryuunosuke paused, face solemn. "If it's you, the one I entrusted my life to, then I have no complaints about how you use it: if you tell me to protect the Princess, I _will_ protect her. _However_. As a _samurai_ , I entrusted my life to you: now you must take responsibility for that!"

**Ryuunosuke.**

Ryuunosuke dropped to a reverent genuflection before Takeru, head bowed as he spoke clearly. "I, Ikenami Ryuunosuke, have only one lone Lord! From now, and forever more!"

"I'm on the same page this guy," Chiaki puffed out with his hands on his hips. "I still haven' beat ya yet, and that doesn' settle well with me."

"Me too," Kotoha cheered, settling beside Ryuunosuke. "I'm the same. Gen-san and Jii-san are also the same."

"And the _kuroko_ , too." Ryuunosuke inputted.

"Takeru…" Mako knelt to Takeru’s side.

**Mako.**

"If not as the Shiba Clan head, there are still things that _you_ , Takeru, have built up yourself. They truly exist."

"I…to me…too."

Takeru let the faucet of emotions drain; after seventeen years of this act, it was finally over. His eyes pricked with unbidden tears as he eyes the faces of his friends: Mako's silent strength, Chiaki's suspiciously shiny eyes, Ryuunosuke's straightforward determination and Kotoha's elated smile.

"It was _real_ to me too."

Takeru let a true, wobbly smile bloom on face.

" _Thank you._ "

**Bonds.**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review if you enjoyed it, think something could have been improved, etc.


End file.
